Hallelujah
by LivingInImaginary
Summary: He doesn't know what it is about her, but it's definitely something.


**A/n: I've just gotten the Glee DVD, I've been listening to the album (volumes one _and_ two) over and over and all i've been reading lately is Glee fanfictions. I'm sorry, Noah Puckerman is just to fucking awesome to not have that affect on someone. **

**Some may even call me obsessed . . . **

**Well, good for them, because they're probably right.**

**I'd just like to thank Inlovewithvanity ever so briefly for reading this and giving me all that support and encouragement. She's pretty awesome, ya know. **

**It's a first for me, but (I hope) it isn't crap.**

**(Review, oh please oh please oh please.)**

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He doesn't know what it is about her. Maybe it's her hair or her eyes or her body.

Or maybe, it's just him (it makes more sense).

He's fucked up and he knows it. He can't go a day without feeling like his heart is slamming against his ribcage, because five – and a half – weeks after Finn finds out it ain't his baby, he's _still_ clinging onto Quinn for dear life. He sees her as she waddles down the halls and he still can't help but think that she's hot or beautiful or whatever.

He's fucked up and he needs _something_ to get his mind off his pregnant never-really-was girlfriend. He needs something to get his mind off his _best friggan' friend _groping her and touching her and never being able to let go of her.

He needs to stop remembering the night Quinn and him had sex (because he doesn't really want to let go of _that_ one). He needs to stop thinking he's a stupid Lima loser because a bitch like her shouldn't affect him . . .

But the thing is, she's carrying _his_ kid, and she just _does_.

He was walking past the bleachers one day (to beat up a couple of nerds, but what does that matter?) and he sees her sobbing into her little hands and he can't help but sigh. So he releases the nerds and they run away like escaped chickens, then he starts walking towards her.

He's going to comfort her, because his kid is kind of a jellybean in her stomach right now, so he strolls by as if to make it a casual thing (even if his stomach his fluttering and looping like he's some kind of pansy). But then a giant storms over and cradles her in his arms and Puck sighs, because he's lost this battle before he'd even drawn his sword.

Finn kisses the tears away while she chokes on the messy piles of word-vomit spilling out of her mouth. They leave the bleachers, and Puck is left alone watching the stupid Cheerios do flips over and over until they got it right.

He kind of wishes life was like that – he could practice over and over until he got it right and _then_ he would never ever make mistakes like this one.

-

He _knows_ she's fucked up too. Rachel can dance and sing and laugh as much as she likes, he knows it never reaches her eyes, and he knows she's not happy.

So one day, he's sitting in the auditorium, completely alone. It's dark and cold and he can sort of breathe calmly without having to think about the shit that is his life. He hears the door slam somewhere far off and he's pissed that someone's going to come in here and tell him to go away or to get fucked or some crap like that and he's going to yell at them because _he just can't take this anymore_.

There's a couple of light footsteps before he hears a creak of someone sitting down on a seat. They don't speak, to his relief.

He's missed all first three periods of the day, and he doesn't plan on going back. So he and his anonymous companion sit in silence until the period five bell goes off, and he decides to turn around.

She's still there, with her long chocolate hair and wide doe eyes. Her eyelashes flutter, and she looks so drained he can almost feel it himself. She gives him a small smile that doesn't quite match her, and then she turns away to study the walls.

He's close to happy. He didn't have to see Quinn or Finn all day, and he got to miss out on all his classes. It was pretty much a bonus that Rachel Berry had been with him the whole day and not said a word (a miracle, more like it).

They leave in silence. There's nothing to say.

-

The day comes when Finn picks up the phone and starts screaming because Quinn's gone into labour. So heaving a sigh of relief and pain and everything in between, Puck gets in his truck and drives off.

This is such a load of shit.

He's sitting in the waiting room, watching Finn practically pull his own hair out and go red with panic. "Why aren't you freaking out, man? She's _having a baby_! Oh my god, she's having a baby. She's having a baby. Don't you think Drizzle is a good name? I do. She doesn't. Drizzle Hudson . . ."

He says it with so much adoration in his eyes that Puck wants to knock his lights out.

A few hours later, a doctor waltzes out and pronounces it's a girl like they do in the movies. Puck stands up to see _his_ kid, but Finn pushes in front of him. "I'm with her," Finn says simply, and the sea of nurses and doctors part likes he's an almighty fucking god.

So he sits down. _Of course_ he gets to see the child. He's _with _her, and Puck's not.

He stands up, kicks a chair, and walks out the door. He's not made for this; he isn't Superman. That isn't his best friend in there, that isn't his girlfriend, and that isn't his kid, not really. He doesn't get why he didn't see that before.

So he throws a brick through a window at McKinley and sits in the auditorium for a while, because it's isolated and cold and lonely.

Almost like him.

He wonders, just for a few minutes, where Rachel Berry is.

-

Rachel goes to watch Puck, just for a little while. She's never really watched football before (she's only ever watched Finn). She stays behind the bleachers, watching through the gaps so nobody sees her.

All the boys are training, charging at the beanbags like crazed bulls. Puck looks so concentrated and focused it's almost enough to make Rachel think he's cute or hot or something. But she doesn't because she's still in that heartbroken stage – and she feels like it's _killing_ her.

Puck rams at the bag straight after Finn, who has this small apologetic smile on his face. She has to look away when bile rises in her throat.

Finn pats Puck on the back, which is such a small movement that creates total chaos. Puck turns around and throws his fist at Finn, who backs away with a yelp. All the boys crowd around them, egging them on. The coach has no idea what to do, so he just stands there and watches. Rachel stands up to stop him before there's a shout from the other side of the bleachers.

Quinn sprints as fast as she can (which isn't really that fast with all her after-baby fat) to the fight, pushes past the boys and tears Puck and Finn away from each other. Mike and Matt hold them back. Rachel _would_ be relieved, but it had to be Quinn to stop them, didn't it? It had to be Quinn to manipulate the two of them. It had to be Quinn to get knocked up by Puck. It had to be Quinn to keep Finn no matter what. It had to be Quinn to make _both_ boys fall in love with her.

Rachel turns on her heels and walks away. Life isn't fair. She wishes, just for a second, it had been _her_ and not Quinn.

-

One day, in glee practice, Quinn and Finn get the lead. They sing the song "_hallelujah_" that's been done over so many times. They're holding each other and their hands are intertwined and it makes Rachel and Puck sick.

_But you don't really care for music, do ya'?  
Well it goes like this: the fourth, the fifth  
The minor fall and the major lift  
The baffled king, composing hallelujah _

He watches her twirl. The sunlight highlights every gold strand in her hair and makes her soft eyes glitter. He thinks he's going to upchuck.

_You saw her bathing on the roof  
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya  
She tied you to the kitchen chair  
She broke your throne and she cut your hair  
And from your lips, she drew the hallelujah_

Turning around, he sees Rachel. She would have been a better lead than Quinn. She's looking at her feet, her chocolate hair dangling around her face, and he notices one long gleaming tear streak fading on her cheek. So he takes her hand (he doesn't know why) and he squeezes it, because this is just as hard for her.

_And love is not a victory march,  
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah_

_Hallelujah. _

-

Rachel knows they're so unbelievably happy. They've just had a baby. They're a family now – even if it isn't his. She can't wrap her head around it. It's not _his_ – why is he still with her?

Puck and her return to the auditorium a week later. They sit in silence for the most of it.

"I really thought you had a chance with him, you know," he tells her absentmindedly.

She wants to tell him to shut up because she doesn't want to talk about it – but she sort of _does_ want to talk about it. "Yeah, I know."

"He's fucked up, don't worry about it."

"Er- Thank you. She did want you, you know."

"Yeah, I know. She just- She always loved him more."

"And he loved her more."

"God, I'm pathetic."

She hates seeing him like this. "Hey, you think wallowing in self-pity over unrequited love makes me any better? At least you have your football and cheerleaders lining up. I- Well, I don't have much else, really."

"Yeah, but you aren't a fucking idiot. And that isn't your kid."

"True," she replies, because she can't really disagree with that. "True."

-

They're both at a party one Saturday night. She probably wouldn't have been there if it weren't for him, and she doesn't know anyone here. So she follows him to the bar and they sit down for a while.

He downs a glass of vodka in a few seconds flat. She eyes him warily – she's never had a drink before. But he looks at her expectantly, and she shakes her head.

"Berry, get that stick out of your arse and _live a little_!" he says ordering another two of whatever it is he just took.

"Oh, I don't know . . ."

He sighs. "Look, you'll feel heaps better. You might even forget about _him_."

So she takes it and skulls it. It burns in her throat and makes her a little dizzy, but she really doesn't care. After a few more, she almost does forget about him. It's just Puck – Puck's breath on her neck, Puck's hand on her hips, Puck's eyes pouring into hers.

And finally, once they've had a good six or so shots, its Puck's lips of her lips. There's fireworks and sparklers and whatever the hell else – but she thinks that might have _a little _to do with the vodka. They both kind of realise something then, but they don't know what.

"I have to go," she whispers before running out the door.

-

That week, Finn leaves for holidays with his Mom for a while. Puck has to admit it's nice to not have to look at the guy who stole his kid and his should-have-been girlfriend every day. He gets changed in the change rooms in peace (for once).

Quinn runs into him in the doorway, and he has to close his eyes for a minute so he doesn't scream or something.

"Hey, Puck," she says quietly, smiling a small smile.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"I think it's time you met Rosie," she whispers.

"R- Rosie?"

He can't help but stumble over the words. His kid has a name. _His _kid is Rosie.

_At least she didn't call it fucking Drizzle_, he thinks to himself.

"She took my last name," Quinn murmurs, sliding past him and sitting on a bench. "But Rose Fabray just suited her. She has the biggest brown eyes, and golden hair like goldilocks. But she has your nose, and my smile."

He takes a deep breath.

"I want her father to be there for her – and me."

He takes another deep breath, but for different reasons. He's angry this time. "No you don't! Stop playing fucking mind games, Quinn! I'm not a stand in when _your_ fucking _boyfriend_ can't be there, okay? Don't- You can't just go around fucking with people's minds like that!"

He almost wants her to burst into tears or shake her head or _beg _him to stay with her – but she doesn't. She just sits there and watches him storm out of the room.

They both know he was right.

-

Rachel joins him in the auditorium once again. He's shaking because Quinn pushed him over the edge with I-need-you-crap – and it's also kind of freezing in there today.

The lights are off and she almost thinks he might be crying. But then she gets one look at his face and knows that no matter what, Noah Puckerman doesn't cry. Rachel takes his hand and squeezes it and freezes her arse off with him.

"I wish I could say I'm over it – say I don't care he's gone away. But I do care. It's ridiculous," she sighs, leaning into the chair and shutting her eyes.

"Nah, it's not," he says through gritted teeth. "I'm not over her, but I'm over _this_. I'm over sitting here and feeling crap about myself, I'm over the lies, I'm over hating him, and I'm _so _over liking her. But I can't fucking help it."

She so gets what he means.

"You know, I never thought I would say this. But you deserve better, Noah," she sighs.

"Better than what? A pregnant bitch who slept with me and told her boyfriend it was _his_, then came crawling back to me once he went ape, only to run back and forth between us just so she could feel _loved_? Everyone deserves better than _that_," he spits angrily. Rachel nods, and leans her head on his shoulder. He's so exhausted that he doesn't move (even though he doesn't really want to move, because he sort of likes her head on his shoulder for some reason that is _way_ beyond him).

"Thank you so much," she whispers into his neck.

He doesn't see what she's thanking him for, but he'll take it. Rachel's been there every single damn time that he's gotten angry, and she's gone along with it for no reason. Out of everyone, he's probably hurt her most – well, technically, it was Finn that did that – but whatever, because he'd been an arse and she didn't care. He didn't get why (she didn't know why she did it either; she just did, just because).

Puck, for once in the past, like, two whole months, started thinking about make-out-sessions and wet t-shirts and all that stuff he so loved. But the fucked up bit (because there was always something fucked up)?

He was thinking about _Rachel_.

So he kisses her again. This time he's sober, and this time he can see without blinding lights. All that stupid anger just fades away like a cloud or something, and it's like _hello_, Rachel Berry.

He doesn't need to grope her or touch her or make her scream. It's enough to make her smile. It's not like he _needs_ her right now, this'll be enough (he never though he'd say that, _ever_). He knows she has long legs up to _there_ and she has big eyes the colour of chocolate ice cream and she fits right against him perfectly. They were both just there, and that was just . . . nice.

Well, better than nice, but he couldn't think of another word to describe it.

He placed a hand on her thigh, and she doesn't move it.

He didn't think about Quinn or Finn or Rosie Fabray for the rest of the day.

-

Okay, so Rachel can be hot.

And he means _hot_.

Her hands were on his neck and his chest and everywhere, and it was like she was a fucking expert at this.

It feels good to be here, for once.

-

They walk out of the auditorium, and he gives her hand one last reassuring squeeze before dropping it (because he's Noah Puckerman, and he doesn't _hold hands_). But he still walked next to her, and he didn't mind that. It was like the way Quinn and Finn did, like they were a pair and everyone just knew it.

Speak of the devil . . .

"Rachel," Quinn said, her lips forming a tight line as she eyed Puck.

"Quinn," she replies, taking a gentle step back so she could feel Puck behind her (because deep down, that cheerleader always scared her just the slightest).

"Hey man," Finn mutters (Puck groans inwardly, _why _is he back early?), looking at his feet. "We cool?"

Puck just gets it then – he thinks that being the fill-in father for _Puck's_ kid makes it okay. He thinks its okay that Puck slept with Quinn because he won her in the end. He's willing to forgive now that Puck is so pissed and angry and fucked up. He might as well of said: _Hey man, thanks for the kid. It's cool you slept with my girlfriend once because I totally get her every night now, _and_ I get your kid. How cool is that?_

There's an awkward silence while Puck fumes, Finn stares at his feet, Quinn watches Puck and Rachel exhales.

Even though Finn never said that, Puck still straightens up and smirks. "Well, I got her," he says, pointing to Rachel and then steering her away.

He feels all dramatic and stupid and like a damn Priss, but he doesn't care.

She bites her lip to hide her grin at him, and he nods his head abruptly.

-

Quinn brings in Rosie one day. He can't look at her, not without feeling like someone stabbed him with a _huge _knife. Quinn tries to snake her arms around his waist and make some sort of fucked up family where she can have both of them. He pushes her away before storming off.

Rachel brushes her fingertips against his wrist, and for some totally irrelevant reason he feels okay again.


End file.
